Humpty Diggory
by Tales of Depravity
Summary: Rated M for sexiness, gore and accidental (near?) death. Cedric Diggory has objectophilia which does not usually get sexual, but this time he decides to get intimate with the golden merpeople egg. An eggcident happens... He does not get to hear the full merfolk song, nor does he get the clue for the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament.


**I had the idea for this about a decade ago and I still can't believe not everyone thought of the same thing.**  
**Perhaps there is something wrong with me.**

The shiny golden egg was under Cedric's arm as he walked the fifth floor corridor. Thankfully it was late enough for there to be nobody else around.  
Professor Moody had told him to open the egg underwater and somehow that had really sparked his imagination. The Professor could not have known that Cedric had been trying things with the egg. That he had licked its exterior, stroked his lips over the little owl-faced nub at the top, that he had exhaled on its smooth surface so it would be slightly wet and moist when he pressed his cheek against it…

He knew that officially, there was a clue to the next challenge that he had to figure out. That aspect of it didn't feel very important.  
The egg had appealed to him the moment he had first seen it. Its gold was pretty of course — gold always was — but the style of the line-art in its surface really appealed to him and its not-entire smoothness felt amazing on his fingertips. Opening it had been a shock, the ungodly noise that had come out had obviously made him close it again but the intensity and the potential of it… it made him shudder to think of it.  
There was something enchanting about having an artifact of such beauty which contained such ugliness.

Grinning in anticipation, he entered the Prefects' Bathroom, readjusting his grip on the egg.

He didn't know why some items struck him so.

It had started a long time ago. Whenever he used to visit his grandmother he couldn't keep his hands of this one teacup she had. He had always been delighted when he got to drink from it so his grandmother had always made sure it was available for him whenever he came over.  
The porcelain was white and so thin he could see through it, its gilded rim of _just_ the right width to be tasteful and the blue swirly pattern on the bottom had always reminded him of a petticoat sticking out from underneath a dress. There was something naughty about it, something… inviting.

The cup was so _fragile_ that he could weep just thinking about it.

Sometimes he did.

There had been times when he had worried that he might be in love with it. But then again — how could he be? He didn't ascribe a personality to the thing, he just… wanted it. To touch it, to experience it, to be as close to it as he could be.

The small '_tic_' sound it made when he placed the cup back on its saucer used to make a tingle run from the top of his skull all the way down his spine. The saucer itself had never interested him that much, even though it was made of the same porcelain with the same blue swirls and the same gilded edge... it just hadn't been the same.

Of course he had, at times, been deadly ashamed of his 'oddity', but lately he had come to the realisation that since he wasn't hurting anyone, he shouldn't worry about it too much. He knew that if he would ever have a relationship with another person, those lovely precious items would always be around… and if his future partner would have an issue with that, then…

Well, then they weren't a suitable partner for him, anyway.

He had grown out of love for the cup at least and a plethora of other items had taken its place over time, some for minutes, some for months… but none had struck him as strongly as the egg.

Perhaps it was the equilibrium of its physical appearance and the whimsical lines in its exterior in contrast to the screech from within, perhaps it was just because it was shiny and big enough to be held with both arms… whatever it was, he was eager to be closer to it.

Gently he put the egg down on the edge of the bath and undressed, eyes focused on the thing. It surprised him that he hadn't considered becoming more physically intimate with it before…

Perhaps he was an idiot.

His obsessions were not usually sexual in nature and this one hadn't been either, not until the idea of taken it under water had occurred… and instantly escalated.

It wasn't as if the Professor had told him to take it in the bath; he had told him to listen to it underwater. Cedric, apparently a pervert, hadn't considered holding it under a tap, a shower, or even in the lake — no, his mind had gone straight to the bath and he had known what he would want to do in there.

Naked, walking around the egg, he opened all the taps and walked in a wide curve around it again, appreciating how the dimmed light played on its shiny surface.

He was half-hard in anticipation.

He lowered himself on the edge of the bath, legs over the edge and the tips of his toes already touching the quickly rising hot water. Laying down on his back, he could look up at the egg and he felt his hair softly touch it.  
For a moment he just revelled in how it appeared to look down on him. The smells of the mixing soaps and bubbles filled the air which grew heavy with moisture. He inhaled deeply.

For awhile he just lay there, looking at the egg, imagining how it would _feel_.

When the water was half way up his calves he reached above his head for the egg and picked it up, placing it on his chest and enjoying its weight on him. He considered opening it again just to hear the screech and be reminded of the **power** within it, but he decided against it. The potential of it somehow made it all the more intense, knowing it was there and contained in its elegant form right there on his chest.

He splashed his legs in the water a bit and then hugged the egg against him — this was really happening, he was going to do this and it was going to be magical.

Embracing the egg tenderly he swiftly sat up, then placed it between his thighs. Feeling its damp hard smoothness on the sensitive skin instantly deepened his breathing and when the shaft of his penis touched against it, he swallowed hard. His fingertips gently stroked the clasp and massaged the owl face shaped-nib there. The unevenness tickled his fingertips and he shuddered.

Carefully he placed the egg beside himself and hopped into the water.

There was a level inside of it, a step or seat beneath the surface and he landed on it perfectly. The heat of the water surprised him a bit though, he hadn't paid that much attention when he opened all the taps. He moved over to them and turned them off — the water was lapping at the edges already and the air was so thick with moisture it was like being in a sauna.

Carefully he moved the egg closer to the edge of the bath and stroked his lips over the clasp, enjoying the feeling of the condensation on the warming metal on his lips. He dragged his face down against it and let it remain there as the fingers of one hand moved down his chest down to his groin, stroking gently through his pubes before stroking the base of his cock with his fingertips. The one thing he had plenty of this evening was time and really wanted to take this slowly… but he could already feel impatience rearing its ugly head.

He took a deep breath and went over to the taps again, one hand still gently touching himself, the other opening one of the taps that had mostly soap come from it. For a moment he was transfixed by the transparent thick slippery substance that filled his palm and he raised his hand to smell it. The scent reminded him of pine and being outside somehow, but he couldn't quite place it. It didn't matter — its substance was perfect.

With a hand full of soap he returned to the egg and positioned himself in front of it, letting it drip from his fingers over the clasp, watching the thick drops trail down over it and imagining his cum running over it in the same manner.

He was fully erect now.

He licked his lips and gently picked up the egg, placing it under water, setting it on the level in the bath. Then he placed one knee beside it, his foot on the other side, and stroked his soapy hand between his legs. He couldn't resist stroking it over the base of his cock, shuddering as the slipperiness touched him, his hand a little cooler than the water. He extended the slippery trail and fingered his arsehole carefully with the soap, expecting a sting but thankfully being spared anything of the sort.

He had touched himself like this before, _that_ was nothing new.  
What he had never done before was penetrate himself with anything remotely the size and shape of the egg.

He had no illusions about it, he knew he couldn't possibly fit the entire thing inside of him, but being able to get some of that power and majesty inside of him was a maddening thought.

Carefully he lowered himself over it, the nib of the clasp touching his inner thigh and he paused for a moment, trying to restrain himself. He knew just dropping himself on the thing would cause nothing but pain and regret and that wasn't what he wanted — he wanted the proximity, the intimacy, the intensity of this beautiful item, to be one with it somehow, if even for the briefest time…

The prospect was overwhelming and he blinked away tears. Something like this would have been impossible with that cup from way back when — if puberty would have struck at the time he might have been able to cum in it and drink from it, but it wouldn't have been remotely the same.

He placed one hand on the edge of the bath to steady himself and adjusted his foot — it wasn't bearing his weight like his knee was, but he needed the stability.  
Carefully he readjusted himself, feeling the little nub atop the clasp stroke his perineum and a soft moan escaped him. He guided it to his anus and gently lowered down on it, shaking a little with the intensity of the situation.  
The nub had no trouble fitting in his anus and he leaned down on it a bit, feeling the rest of the clasp against his opening and he pressed a little harder.

It was inside of him.

Not the entirety of the clasp, but that pretty little owl face was and he could feel the grips of the rest of the clasp against his anus, stimulating him when he moved over it. This was nowhere near all of it, but still. The thought that it could be, potentially, entirely inside of him made him moan and he gripped his cock more firmly now, stroking slowly and steadily with one hand as he stabilised the egg with the other. He pressed himself down on it a little harder, wiggling a bit to feel every refined detail on the clasp and tensed his muscles to get every detail of the sensation.

The air was almost liquid and it was so hot in here and it felt _so_ good.

He had to remind himself to breathe as he pressed down on the egg a little harder, fantasising about how far he would be able to fit it. It stung a bit and he paused, breathing hard — panting, almost scared to touch his cock for fear that this might end too soon.

Cedric hadn't put many things up his arse in his lifetime so he was by no means an expert, but he knew there was a g-spot in there that promised unimaginable pleasures and the thought of this wonderful magical egg touching it was almost too much. Knowing he wouldn't be able to keep going much longer anyway he pressed down just a little further, feeling his arsehole stretch beyond capacity with help of the soap.

Was the entire clasp in now?

He tried to suppress a groan that wasn't entirely from pleasure. Being stretched this far made him taste metal in his throat somehow and he was a bit lightheaded from the shock of it and the sensation of his arsehole being stretched too far felt more stinging feeling than he had expected. Slightly shaking and he leaned forward, ready to get himself off the egg and out of the bath so he could catch his breath and try again.

He wasn't sure _how_ he had slipped.

His knee, which had been bearing most of his weight, suddenly was bearing none of it. Through the loss of balance his foot slipped and somehow pushed him away from the edge.

The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

His arse felt torn, a sharp pricking pain that offered no possibility of relief the way a bruise would — the taste of metal was undeniable now but there was more than that.

** Fulness** was paramount.

It was as if the egg was pressing up his ribs from the inside out. He was certain that he tasted blood now and it took a moment to remember he ought to breathe. Doing so was harder than he anticipated as something was compressing his lungs from the bottom up.

There was this pressure, this maddening pressure, begging to be let out from all directions and he just… couldn't. He tried to press down in the way he would if he were using the bathroom, but his body screamed pain at him in response.

Cedric had gone limp in response to the pain. He was too shocked to be scared and for a few seconds he just drifted there, dazed with eyes wide open. It took his face slipping beneath the water surface for him to realise that he ought to do something.

As he spluttered the water and foam from his mouth, the taste of blood from his throat intensified and he could feel his heart pound in his abdomen. His legs felt fuzzy as if they were falling asleep and moving them was next to impossible — he wasn't sure to what extent the hot water was to blame for that.

With his arms he managed to manoeuvre himself somewhat upright, and dully he decided he should get back to the edge. With a few careful shaky strokes he managed to get there.

He had no control over the pathetic guttural noises that escaped him as he tried to breathe. Apart from his arms, neck and head, most of his body felt like immovable and somewhat numb. Distantly he registered his legs touching the level on which he had been perched before, but he failed to get them to bend enough to climb onto it again.

Now what?

His heartbeat had never felt this forceful, rattling pain in all directions. The pain in his ass was intense but seemed further away now and he felt a little fainter with every passing second.

In a stroke of genius he leaned forward so his hands bore his weight on the bench and he pulled himself forwards until he could get a firm grip on the edge. Unfortunately it was far too smooth to get grip, let alone to pull himself up. All the while, his legs were refusing duty.

Something akin to panic seemed to slosh around distantly but the faintness seemed to have the upper hand.

In a stroke of genius, he tried to bend over so he could use his hand to move his leg. If only he could bend his knee he could get on the level, and from there he would be able to get himself out of the water and — well, at the very least, he would be able to grab his wand and signal for help.

Trying to lean forward made his body scream pain at him so loud that it felt as if his throat was bleeding. He wasn't sure if he had screamed just then. His heartbeat was now pounding in his head too, the world suddenly sounding as if he had stuck his head in a beehive.

He couldn't help but notice that the water in between the bubbles had a clearly darker hue than it did before… he didn't doubt that was his blood colouring it.

If he did nothing he would bleed out.

The faintness was closing in and he figured it was now or never. If he would forgo gritting his teeth and bracing for the pain he may have an extra ounce of energy to put in the final desperate swing… He used every bit of momentum he could find as he tried to bend down far enough for his hand to reach his knee.

Something inside of him said '_click'_.

It was as if his pounding heart had split into pieces and was pushing outward in three different directions. There was a sense of tearing so intense Cedric wasn't sure whether it was a sound or a feeling. To his horror he saw something bulge in the middle of his chest, gradually moving down his abdomen in a white line, as if a perfect triangle was trying to fight its way out of his body.

The ungodly screech shrilled through his organs and he could hear it spilling muffled from his abdomen beneath the water surface, and sharply through his throat.

Desperately he stroked his hands from his lower abdomen up towards his chest, attempting to close the egg again. It was no use.

His vision began to fade. Something tore and he could feel the smooth metal against his shaking fingers. The screech was clearer now, its sound now unobstructed by his abdominal walls.

Unable to gather the strength to remain upright, Cedric slowly slid back in the water.

Now his ears were beneath the surface the unholy screeching morphed into an angelic choir, echoing off the edges of the bath as the water turned red.

_" The prospect's black; Too late, it's gone, it won't come back._"


End file.
